The Wayward House for Angelic Children
by loki-dokey
Summary: A Supernatural backstory. What if angels grow as we do? From children to adults, who receive their Grace, but then forget all childhood memories? To lose someone in such a way is like death. But yet, it's inevitable. Or...is it?
1. Prologue

**Hey! I give you here a brief introduction to understanding this story:**

**The idea for this story was born purely by chance. There was no real reason for it. It just strolled into my head one day. You may say that I had a "JK Rowling Experience", if you will. But that does by no means mean that I am comparing my standard of writing to hers!**  
><strong>But onwards! This story is the backstory to the angels of the popular CW series 'Supernatural.' I always wondered how they were all connected "behind-the-scenes", and decided to write it myself. I also have this ultimate head-canon that Balthazar and Castiel were best friends once.<strong>  
><strong>I have thought this plot out a lot, and with my fabulous beta Sarah I am hopefully going to make it through right to the very end.<strong>

******This story will explain why Gabriel, Balthazar and Castiel are the way they are in Supernatural.**

**Why Gabriel is the trickster.**

**Why Balthazar is like he is.**

**Why Castiel has the ability to actually _care._**

**Onto other important points:**

**1. As of yet, there are still some kinks which I am trying to smooth out, for example trying to make this story completely fit with what the angels talk about in Supernatural when they see each other, but there is a possibility, and I'll even stretch as far as that it's an inevitability that this story won't fit EXACTLY with the amount which SPN writers give us on the angels' backgrounds. **

**2. Some characters - such as Gabriel - may come across as extremely out-of-character. This is purposeful! Don't think I'm completely dumb.**

**3. Bear with me with this story - I know where it is going but it will take time to write each chapter, edit it, get it beta'd and post it, and I also have school exams coming up during 2012 so my writing will have to fit around those, school work, revision and other commitments! **

**4. Please give this story a chance. No, it's not a smut. Not at all. And I know all you randy people out there are more often than not just out to get a kick. But as I said, give it a chance. This story has a long, long way to go, and I'd love to have you along for the ride.**

**ALSO**

**5. When I make mention of a "Heavenly year" I actually haven't decided how many Earth years fit into one, and probably never will. Sorry!**

****But read on, and please, don't hesitate to let me know what you think. I'd love to hear your ideas on the storyline, and any questions you may have :********)****

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><p><strong>PROLOGUE<strong>

In the centre of the Darkness, an empty planet lies in wait. From a distance, the planet is invisible; as though it does not exist in this vast expanse of nothingness. Yet this tiny, seemingly insignificant speck is the most important of all the celestial bodies burgeoning into existence around it. For here, on this planet so desolate, will be _life_.

He first, however, takes the sweltering, new-born spheres of burning gas that span across His entire universe, and gathers them in clusters in His hands. The light shining from within his palms is magnificent, and can be seen from all reaches of the cosmos. The beams cut through between His fingers, casting spectrums in all directions. From within His hands, He calls upon a multitude of stars, and lets the others fly free. Hundreds of thousands of fiery masses float amongst His fingertips, all trembling with a melodic hum. After much time, His first life explodes into existence in a great spectacle of blinding light. They are beautiful, and with them, He is pleased. He allows them to roam in the place He calls Heaven, a place with Him where they can love, praise and serve Him in joy forever. It is then that God creates living creatures to inhabit His planet which He has called _Earth. _The creatures grow and develop as the Earth rotates around its own star. He aids in the maturing of His life, and God asks the angels to venerate this creation – to revere and adore His humanity. The angels are obedient, and follow his orders.

It is not long, however, before one of His creations begins to question. The one named Lucifer – the shining one – who has the most power of all the angels. But the angels – not even Lucifer - arenot all-powerful. They cannot be everywhere and they do not know all things. They are merely creatures. They have all been given free will, but this _one_ creation has risen up and is refusing to love His new children – humanity – and the arguments he begins with God and his brother Michael are never-ending. Lucifer is in fact one that He has favoured most highly out of all. But still he protests_. _

"_Father! I can't. These humans are flawed. Murderous!"_

Lucifer's heart is filled with pride. God sees his sin. He cannot hide from his sin. Appalled, He understands that He cannot coexist with the sins of pride and rebellion. Tearing open a hole in His creation, He casts Lucifer into the new, inextinguishable fires of Hell. Filled with despair and sadness, He looks upon His creations whom have remained good and loyal. Though He loves them, He feels others may rebel. Yet He does not want to destroy all that He has created. A decision is made. The archangels remain with their duties, but His angels are too unstable. They have no purpose. They are too powerful not to have a purpose. However, though the archangels remain frozen in age, his first angels begin to die out. He did not anticipate such an event. He considers that after He forges His angels from the stars, he must introduce them to Heaven as infants, allowing them to grow and develop. They must be trained and work to become true guardians, when their age will become infinite. He takes properties from His Earth, from its past, its present and its future, and combines them together with Heaven's qualities to create a place where His angels will grow. His archangels name it the Wayward House for Angelic Children.

Whilst gazing out across the ether, He sees the most beautiful star in His entire universe. He takes it in His hands, and gently moulds it into a child. Its miniature charcoal wings flutter against His palms. As He hands it to His archangel Gabriel, the child blinks at Him with huge, crystal eyes. God smiles.

"Welcome, my creation."

His voice resonates across the cosmos. The angels and the archangels stop in their duties, and the Earth grows silent. It is as though all creation apart from this tiny angel has stood still. United, it listens to the words of the Lord.

"Welcome, my _Castiel_."

* * *

><p>When angels reside in Heaven, they are merely spirits - the most powerful spirits in all creation. But when angels look upon one another in Heaven, their visage mirrors one of their future vessels, which ages as the angel ages. The infant Castiel lies asleep in Gabriel's arms, his tuft of hair reminiscent of the thick, dark ash which pours from Earth's burning mountains. Landing before the Wayward House, he breathes in deeply. The first real breath since his Father had named Castiel aloud. Pausing, Gabriel casts his eyes upon the resting child in his arms and wonders.<p>

What makes this one so special? Why did their Father name this angel, and only this angel?

He is not an archangel. He does not seem special compared to the other children in the House. But Gabriel is not one to question his Father's motives. He continues onwards, and reaches the door to have it opened by Uriel, which does not surprise him. In fact, he was expecting to arrive with the entire company of Heaven at his doorstep – what with this child having had been named by God and such.

Uriel is an Elite Angel – one of the stronger angels who were in God's first batch. The ones who survived.

His face is indecipherable.

"This is the one He calls 'Castiel'?" are the words which manage to escape his dark lips. His eyes are focused on the child. Gabriel shifts uneasily. Of course the angels are responding to this with resentment. The last time their Father had favoured one of His creation above the others, that creation had rebelled, and had had to be sent to the raging pits of Hell.

"Yes," Gabriel nods. The baby turns in his sleep, pressing his small face against Gabriel's chest. "This is Castiel."

"I do not under-"

Gabriel glares up at his brother from under thick lashes. "We do not query our Father, Uriel. You know better than that." Uriel sighs, and stares at Gabriel pointedly. "One day the reason for this will be revealed," Gabriel continues, when Uriel does not speak. Gabriel looks back down at Castiel. "But for now, we can all but watch him, and allow him to grow."

* * *

><p>Stepping inside the House, Gabriel is greeted by the excited buzz of twinkling voices. Thundering footsteps cause the framework of the House to tremble, and suddenly Gabriel is met by dozens of sets of eyes peering at him through the banister of the grand staircase.<p>

_"That's him."_

_"The one Father talked about?"_

_"Casriel or something?" _

The soft whispers make Gabriel smile.

"Come and meet your brother," he says, and slowly, the children creep down the stairs and gather around him, and the baby in his arms.

"He's rather small," muses one of them. "Smaller than any other angel baby I've seen."

"His wings are pretty."

"Shh, he's _sleeping!_"

"Gabriel, why did Father name him? Isn't that the archangel's job? Like you named me?" Karael speaks up and the others nod in agreement.

"I don't know," replies Gabriel truthfully. "But I'm sure we one day will. Now, to bed, all of you."  
>The angels grumble and yawn, but wade off towards their rooms obediently. Castiel murmurs and shifts, his face scrunching up to indicate he is about to cry. Gabriel bobs his arms to comfort him, and he settles. The door to the nursery is ajar, and a cot lies empty and waiting, and it is this cot which he slides Castiel into, and realises that the baby has woken silently. His blue eyes are round and huge. Inquisitive. Gabriel strokes a finger down his cheek.<p>

"What is it that makes you so special, Castiel?" he asks quietly, mostly to himself. Castiel gurgles happily. Smiling, Gabriel wraps a blanket around him. Castiel's eyelids droop once more, and Gabriel waits until he has finally drifted back sleep.

* * *

><p>That night, Gabriel is called away urgently by the Elite Angels, and his fellow archangels. The House is left abandoned by adults, with only the children asleep in their beds. A baby's cry echoes through the House, ricocheting off of the ornate mahogany panels that line the walls. One child has remained awake, unable to sleep. He has always had trouble sleeping. He hears the cry, and knows of Gabriel's absence, since he had seen the archangel leave the House when he had been staring out of his dormitory window. Quietly, he slides out of his bed and pads across the cold wood floor, reaching for the gold-plated door handle. The door creaks loudly as it opens, so he winces, worried he has woken his roommates, but when all is calm, he slips silently into the hallway. It is dark and daunting, and he feels incredibly alone. The baby cries again, and he scurries down the hallway, hovering just outside of the nursery door. Filled with curiosity, he peers around it and sees the tiny angel flailing about in his cot. The boy tip toes across the room, and clutches onto the railings of the cot, looking down upon the one He calls 'Castiel'. As Castiel blinks at him, he stops sniffling, and stretches his hands out, as though desperate to be held. The boy retreats slightly, feeling as though he really shouldn't be here. Which is true. And he really is too young to be handling little children like this one. Castiel makes a cooing noise, kicking his legs out and bouncing on his back. The boy leans closer once more and waggles his finger over the child's face, gasping slightly when Castiel wraps his hand around it, and clings on like a vice. The boy chuckles, rolling back onto his heels and up onto his toes again. He had never taken any real interest in the new angels before. Yes, they were his brothers and sisters, but there was nothing unique about them. But this baby - there is something about him. A sort of...<em>majesty<em>. Though so small, he gives off an air of greatness. Whilst he is pondering over this, Castiel stretches and yawns, his mouth shaping into an miniature 'o'. His attention is captured once more by the boy's finger, and he grabs it happily.

"Balthazar!" comes an angry voice from the door. It is so sudden that he accidentally finds himself wrenching his hand away a bit too hard than he should have done. Castiel whimpers before wailing at the top of his lungs. Balthazar turns in shock. Gabriel, Uriel and Zachariah are standing just inside the room. Zachariah steps closer. "What are you doing out of bed at this hour? And with the child?" The rage in his voice makes Balthazar hide himself behind his ivory wings, wrapping them over his face and allowing only his eyes to show.

"I'm sorry, Zacha-"

"Get to bed! You have _deliberately_ disobeyed! You are in no place to think yourself better than your brothers and sisters. We all know where _that_ leads to..." Balthazar gazes at his feet. All angel children are taught about the Rebellion. He knows the story well. Biting his lip, he hurries past Zachariah, his eyes glazed over and his eyebrows knit tightly together. He doesn't like Zachariah. He never has. Suddenly, a gentle hand is on his shoulder, and he looks up to see Gabriel walking behind him.

They continue in silence until Balthazar crawls into his bed. The other children still sleep soundly. Gabriel lifts his comforter to his chin and tucks him in. Then he sits beside him and hooks a blond curl behind his ear. Balthazar stares at the ceiling, his lower lip trembling.

"Am I...am I a bad angel, Gabriel?" he asks in an almost silent voice. Gabriel exhales with a soft laugh.

"You're quite the opposite, Balthazar."

"But Zachariah said-"

"Zachariah is..._unadjusted _to being around angelic children like you and your siblings. He's not the only one. All of the Elite Angels and archangels try to distance themselves from this House. They don't quite see...the _point _in hanging around here. After all, no one but me was ordered to be the guardian of this place."

"Do you wish you hadn't been?"

Gabriel raises an eyebrow. "Hadn't been what?"

"Ordered to be our guardian."

A moment of quiet passes.

"I would _never_ not wish to be your guardian," Gabriel replies eventually, and completely truthfully too. Balthazar climbs into his lap, resting his cheek against Gabriel's chest. The archangel is startled for a second, before relaxing and rocking him gently. Balthazar yawns. "I will never stop being your guardian, Balthazar. When you come of age to train, and receive your Grace and join your brothers and sisters in the garrison you are assigned to, I will always be watching over you."

"I'm happy you're our guardian," Balthazar mumbles sleepily. Gabriel guesses he wasn't really listening to what Gabriel had been saying.

"And why is that?"

"You're nice. And kind. And you _love_. You are so different to the other angels."

Gabriel thinks about this for a second. This…is…true. He _is _different…isn't he? Balthazar is right. He _can _love. "Father must have great faith in you." Gabriel almost bursts out laughing.

"Balthazar, it is I who should - and _do_ - have great faith in our Father. Not the other way around."

"There is a reason why Father chose you to care for us. You aren't like the other angels. I think...I think all the angel children in your charge are going to be the greatest angels there ever was, and ever will be. I like to believe that Father chose you to be the guardian because there isn't another angel who could ever be as good at it as you."

Gabriel is in awe. This boy, still so young, speaks like he has obtained his Grace already. So mature. And so understanding. Gabriel is touched by his words. A warmth spreads through his body. Balthazar is breathing heavily now, and Gabriel stands to place him back under his comforter. The boy snores softly in his sleep. Gabriel kisses his forehead lightly, checks on the others, and leaves the room with a smile on his face. The creaking door makes him pause, but safely on the other side, he closes it with a _click._

* * *

><p>He watches from the wrought iron gates as a group of his brothers and sisters disappear with the archangel Michael at their side. Balthazar knows where they are going.<p>

Each Heavenly year, the angel children whom have come of age succumb to the training which the archangel's Michael and Raphael have set down, going by the will of God in order to mould the angels into perfect, consecrated warriors, and the mighty guardians of the human race which resides below on Earth. They are taken to be trained, and some are gone for much shorter times than others, whereas on the other hand, for those said "others", their training is indefinite, dependent on how good they are.

Those who fail their training stand solemn in the doorway to Wayward House, heads hanging in shame, and all equally inconsolable. Waiting to be collected; to watch their siblings in the Ceremony, then continue with their training once again, until they finally get it right.

The Ceremony is for the angel children who successfully complete their training. When they return from the Ceremony, they return with their heads held high, and the same expression on their faces as their brothers and sisters who have gone before them. No one can really ever quite place it. It's an expression which is almost indescribable. Though…if Balthazar really _has_ to describe it - if he was being held against a wall with a sword at his throat, just to describe the expression - he would say vacant. Detached.

_Empty._

When an angel completes his or her training, the reward they are bestowed with is the absolute ultimate reward any creature created by the Father can receive. It is what makes angels what they are. It completes their spirit. It perfects them.

It is their Grace.

* * *

><p>For every angel ever created, there is a Grace. It is forged from the very star from which they were born. Grace is meant for the angel it is akin to, and <strong>no<strong> other. It is _extremely _particular.

When an angel receives their Grace, their age becomes infinite. Grace takes all of the childhood memories and the life they had, and condenses them into an intense, compact ball of light, right in the angel's heart. It does so to make room for the power that it contains, filling the angel with its holiness and magnitude. It scorches them, branding upon their very essence a mark which announces to the entire Heavenly host that _they_ are an angel of the Lord, and that _they_ are a guardian of the human race. It shows that they have gained their purpose. Their Grace gives them their purpose.

…No one quite knows what happens to an angel when they achieve their Grace.

Some children say that the angel they were before dies. That their Grace swallows their entire childhood whole, never to be remembered.

What Grace _truly _is, remains a mystery to them all.

But they do all know one thing.

That once an angel obtains their Grace, they are never the same.

Grace changes them.

The angel they once were is nowhere to be found.

It is not a question of whether the angel they were dies or not.

Because no matter what happens, once an angel gains their Grace, they are dead to _all_ who knew them.


	2. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

**For arguments sake, Castiel's appearance is five in human years here, and Balthazar's is eight in human years. It makes it easier to imagine them then :)**

**Please don't forget to review! It lets me know what you think and how maybe I can improve and things :)**

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><p>Sunlight casts a bright light across Wayward House, glinting from the windows which are dappled with the thick frost of winter.<p>

Wayward House is specifically designed to reflect humanity and Earth, by which it has a cycle of the Earth's seasons, but the cycle is within the Heavenly year, not the Earthly year. Time is slower in Heaven. Much slower than on Earth. Many, many years can pass on Earth in one Heavenly year.  
>A layer of shimmering snow carpets the ground, melting the area into a beautiful wonderland which never fails to excite Wayward House's residents; particularly when they wake up that morning and press their noses against the cold windows, letting out harmonious squeals of joy.<br>Each angel grabs their winter coat, along with their scarves, gloves and hats, and in a mass of cheering and glee, they pour from the front doors of Wayward House, and tumble into the snow.

* * *

><p>In Wayward House, from the beginning, when it was erected, it contained all manners of future human technology. From clothing to kitchen appliances - God wants their childhoods to be as normal as possible for them. Normal by human standards. He feels felt that the human way of nurturing and growing is the most beautiful in all His creation.<p>

* * *

><p>There is one face missing in the blur that is the children, and when Gabriel notices this, he climbs the stairs to the dormitories and knocks of one of the doors. Silence.<br>Opening the door, Gabriel sighs at the sight that greets his eyes. On the bed at the far end of the room, a small figure sits, gazing out of the huge window.  
>"Why don't you go out and play, Castiel?" Gabriel asks, and his sudden voice breaks the quiet, making the boy jump. His black wings splay in shock, but he hurriedly tucks them away again. It is no news that Castiel is ashamed of his wings. They are very small, even for his size. And Castiel knows it.<br>"Gabriel," the boy acknowledges aloud calmly, before facing the window once more. He doesn't avert his eyes when Gabriel sits beside him.  
>"It looks like fun out there, you know," he states, nodding his head towards the group of children climbing the snow-covered tree outside.<br>"I'm quite alright, thank you," comes the plain reply. The finality in his tone makes Gabriel bite his lip. God instructed that though he must guide the angel children and watch over them, he must let them be children. Children have problems like this. But even humans deal with bullying.  
>"Do you want me to have a word with the others?"<br>"NO!" Castiel is on his feet, little fists clenched, and nostrils flaring. "You'll just make it worse!" The boy glares for a while longer, before realising how disrespectful he had been to the archangel, and his eyes widen. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"  
>Gabriel chuckles, and lifts Castiel onto his lap. "It's okay, Castiel." Castiel lets out a noticeable sigh of relief. "Now. I think there's a patch of snow with your name on it out in the yard. And it's begging to be made into a snowman." Gradually, a smile tugs at Castiel's mouth. Gabriel digs out his jacket, and wraps Castiel up in his scarf and hat. His mittens are the last to go on. The snug angel waddles about, flapping his arms like wings at his sides and giggling.<br>"Look! I'm a penguin!"  
>Laughing, Gabriel takes hold of a small, mittened hand, and together they walk out of the House. The light from the sun reflecting on the snow and ice is blinding at first, and they both shield their eyes, but with a slight push to his back, Castiel toddles off to an emptier area of the yard. The moment he begins to roll snow into a ball, Gabriel's smile widens.<p>

* * *

><p>Patting down the snow, Castiel decides he is done and takes a step back to admire his work. The snowman grins with his mouth lined with stones. Castiel grins back.<br>"Hey look!" comes a voice from nearby. Shyly, Castiel peers around his snowman and sees a group of children not very far away, lying on the snow and waving their arms, legs and wings, and then standing to reveal a beautiful imprint of themselves indented in the ground. Castiel cocks his head to one side, intrigued. After watching them for a while longer, he wants to do one for himself. Settling back against the snow, he copies what he had witnessed, and stretches his wings out as far as they will go. Eager to see the result, he scrambles up. It looks wonderful! He's extremely proud of it.  
>"You call that a snow angel?" comes a snide remark from his left. The group he had been watching has gathered by his snowman.<br>"That looks more like a snow _human_. Where are the wings?"  
>"It's pretty pathetic."<br>Castiel gulps back the lump forming in his throat, but cannot stop the haze of tears forming in his eyes. His fists ball up at his sides.  
>"I bet he'll never even be able to fly."<br>That does it. Salty tears begin to stream down his rosy, chapped cheeks. Suddenly, Zazriel - who had made the last comment - flies forwards, and lands head first in the snow. They all snap their heads around to see Balthazar with his hands out, his face dark and angry.  
>"Leave Castiel alone. None of you are any better than he is. I'm sick and tired of you all treating our brother like he's trash. Get lost. You are disgraceful to what the name "angel" stands for."<br>Zazriel picks himself up and brushes off the snow. He goes to shove Balthazar back but the others restrain him. They glare as they leave, but they leave nonetheless. Castiel still stands alone, trembling, his gleaming eyes watching Balthazar suspiciously.  
>"Why would you stand up for me?" His voice is accusing, which makes Balthazar start. Why is he still being so cautious? Hadn't Balthazar just saved him from being bullied again?<br>"I couldn't just watch them make you hate yourself anymore," Balthazar explains. "There's nothing to hate about you, Castiel. And you need to understand that before they make sure that's what you think of yourself forever."

Castiel's eyes turn cold and even more defensive. Without a word, or a thank you, Castiel turns on his heel and dashes to the front door.

"Wait!" he calls out, but as he attempts to run after him, his foot gets caught up in a tree root which has been hidden by the snow. He tumbles face first to the ground, and splutters the snow from his nose and mouth when he eventually pulls himself to his feet. Castiel is nowhere to be seen, and Balthazar's face is red raw with cold. He yanks his scarf over his cheeks and mouth, and sighs. It seems that even Castiel neglects wanting to be friendly with him. Is he truly _that _repulsive? Glumness washes through him and the joyous scene of his siblings playing in the snow suddenly dulls, greying like it was the fun he was seeing in it that had been giving it its colour.

* * *

><p>In the hallways of Wayward House, there are beautiful ornaments on pedestals lining the walls, and intricate paintings hanging in grand golden frames, depicting scenes that could be dated back to the very beginning of the universe. The top floor hallway of the House looks just like any other, yet it houses a secret which only one is in knowing of. At the end of the hallway there is a bookcase, with swirling designs carved into its wood work. Upon its shelves are volumes of texts, and battered children's stories which were supposedly written by the Lord himself. The bookcase's appearance is not extraordinary in the slightest.<p>

Last autumn, before the lights were turned down for the children to go to bed, the children had been playing a huge game of tag around the House. A few had been chosen to be the taggers, and every time someone was caught, they became a tagger too.

Castiel had found himself being ganged up on by half a dozen angels, and had managed to somehow slip out of their grasp and dive onto the top floor hallway in a tumult of black wings and flailing limbs. It was only a matter of time before they caught up. He wasn't very fast. He picked himself up and hurtled down the hall, only to come short when he realised he was trapped in front of the book case, the only other doors nearby either locked or just trapping him more if he were to go in them. He edged back to the wall beside the book case and realised that there was a gap behind it. Breathing a sigh of relief, he slotted himself in the space and leant back against the panelled wall.

Which moved.

The lower panel wobbled against his back and he gasped because he thought someone was somehow behind him, but noticing it was just the wall, he pressed back against it harder. It moved again. He grasped his hands against the surface and pushed up, wondering what would happen, and squeaked when the panel gave way and lifted easily in his small hands. Awkwardly – since the space he was in was so confined – he managed to pull it forwards and slide it to the side. Kicking his leg back, he realised there was a space there. An excited babble of voices and the thunder of feet made him not care about how small the space could be, and, hunching over, he threw himself backwards and landed on his bottom with a soft _thump. _He scrambled to his knees and dragged the panel back into place, finding nooks in the back of it which made it easy for him to slot it back onto the wall from his side. The moment his fingers were free, he collapsed back on his bottom again, and breathed heavily. That had been…scary. He had thought he was going to be caught. Then he really took in his surroundings. He was sitting in the wall partition between the outside wall and the inside wall. It was very narrow, though he presumed that if Gabriel wanted he could squeeze inside. But Gabriel never would, because no one else but Castiel would know about this place. He was going to be sure of that.

Climbing to his feet, Castiel gazed left, and then right. It was very dark either way. But he wasn't going back out there. Not with them all searching for him. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward carefully, into the blackness. He placed one foot in front of the other, his hands feeling around in the air before him. When his knees bumped into something solid, he yelped accidentally. The sound ricocheted off of the walls and he clapped a hand over his mouth. Someone on the other side of the wall had probably heard that. Worriedly, he felt what it was he collided with and discovered it was some sort of concrete step, or slab. Then he felt up high and it was the same up there too. There was a gap between the barrier big enough for him to crawl through. Curious, Castiel dipped low and inched inside. Still on top of the step, he continued crawling until there was no longer concrete over his head. He looked up. A stream of white, soft light was coming from above him. If he stood, he could easily reach out and…

The panel moved. The light got brighter as he pushed as hard as he could against the panel. Eventually it gave way, but he didn't anticipate it cracking from the force he was exerting on it. Well…now that's broken. If someone found out, he'd be in big trouble for that.

That's _if _someone found out. Castiel had never even heard of there being another floor above the top one. He pulled himself up and through the hole, not able to take in whatever room it was he was climbing into since his eyes were scrunched so tightly together in his effort to hoist himself. Finally, he was inside, and opened his eyes.

The light he had seen was moonlight, shining bright through a skylight overhead on the ceiling. The space around him was empty. It could hardly be called a room, since it was so small. But it was enough. It was silent and peaceful. He had found a sanctuary in the House. An escape from the bullies. He could already picture a little stack of his favourite books by the far wall. Maybe a few blankets from the cupboard all spread out on the floor. An oil lamp or two in the corner. A pillow perhaps? Castiel smiled.

It was small, neglected, unnoticed and quiet.

Just like him.

And he liked that. He liked that a lot.

* * *

><p>It is in this very place that Castiel sits, just over a year later, huddled in a thick navy blanket with an oil lamp flickering beside him, enveloping the room in warm glow. He is leant against the wall, staring up through the skylight at the steadily falling snow beyond the glass, and letting thoughts wander across his mind.<p>

He shouldn't have run away from Balthazar today. He should have said thank you.

But before, whenever anyone has been kind to him, it's always false niceties – either to get something that they want, or just to spite him in the end. Troubled, his lower lip pouts and he pulls the blanket closer to his body, clutching his teddy bear to his chest underneath it. Is he ever going to be able to have a friend? Someone other than his teddy bear, who silently listens to his thoughts and woes, but never actually speaks. But he just finds it so difficult to trust others, when everyone's is so mean.

Sometimes…and he never says it aloud because he wouldn't ever want to face the consequences…but sometimes…he just wants to escape.

Escape the bullies. Escape this House. Escape Heaven.

He just wants to tuck himself away somewhere that no one will find him. Where he can live in peace, away from the taunts and the insults. Where he could hide his wings away, make them invisible, and not have anyone mock him. Where he could be _free. _

He feels his eyelids drooping. The book he has been holding against his knees falls off and hits the floor, its yellowing pages splaying open. He shuts the book and tucks it onto the pile of others, and folds his blanket neatly. Placing it in the corner, he hooks his teddy under his arm and blows out the flame in the oil lamp. He needs to get back into bed before he falls asleep in here. He comes here most nights. It may not be much to anyone else – no one else knows it even exists. But to Castiel, it is the place he feels he can truly call his home. It's the most special thing he has.

It's a tiny fragment of the escape he's always dreamed of.


	3. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **

**Hello! It's wonderful to see people reading my story! :) **

**I just want to make a point here that an angel child who is six is a lot more mature than a human child who is six, though they may look the same in physical age. A LOT more mature. **

**Please review! It makes bb!Castiel's day (and mine oh shhh Chloe shhh) :3**

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><p>A long while passes before Castiel and Balthazar speak again. Winter blooms into spring and then spring folds into summer. Balthazar has tried to stay away from Castiel, as since the snow incident, the younger angel has been keeping his distance as well, indicating that he really didn't want to talk to him. But that hasn't stopped Balthazar from watching out for him. Whenever Castiel is mocked or insulted, Balthazar is always there in the shadows, waiting to bite at whomever so happened to be the insulter. Of course, he makes sure Castiel isn't around to see it.<p>

* * *

><p>The day is thick with heat, and even in the morning, the children are sweating as they tear themselves from their bed sheets. Castiel sits up and yawns, stretching his arms up in the air and opening his wings along with them. The primary flight feathers at the tips tremble as he reaches the climax of his stretch, and then he falls back against the pillow with a <em>huff <em>and stares at the ceiling. A long-winded groan surpasses his lips, and he rolls over with a dramatic display of effort, pulling with him his pillow and burying his face into the mattress beneath it.

Today is his first flying lesson. And to be honest he _really _isn't looking forward to it all that much. It's absolutely compulsory, so there's no way of getting out of it. This is the day he has been dreading ever since…well, ever since forever, really. It means that he has to open out his wings. It means he has to finally let his brothers and sisters see again what he has kept hidden for so long. His wings are an embarrassment. They are wretched and pygmy and just plain awful. He hates them. All of the other children's wingspans are magnificent. Their wings are beautiful, with feathers of abundant colours which compliment each other perfectly. Sighing deeply, he sits up, and realises that he's the last left in the room. All the others had hurried down to breakfast. He winces as he feebly stretches out his left wing again, and lets out a grumble. They're so….so…_dull. _Matt black with nothing particularly interesting about them whatsoever and they're just so _small. _It's humiliating. He brings his wing around to his front and strokes the feathers lightly. Angel wings are extremely sensitive, and his touch makes his under wing coverts quiver up contentedly.

Deciding it's best that he pull on his robe and arrive at breakfast before Gabriel comes looking for him, he drops from his bed and slumps across the wooden floor, grabbing said robe and shrugging himself into it. After sliding into his slippers, he trudges downstairs, fists balled up in the pockets of his robe and a moody expression slapped across his face. Upon opening the door to the dining room, the noisy ruckus of his siblings hits him as he opens the door. Those his age are piled onto their table, excitement clear on their faces. Leo – the pretentious idiot whom Castiel despises most – is spreading out his wings and showing them off. Castiel hates him not only because he is just one of the many bullies at Wayward House, but he also has stunning wings. Castiel's hates him because he hates to admit to himself that he's jealous.

Castiel grabs a bowl from the pile and ladles himself some porridge; the fact that today's the day that the porridge has decided to go cold very quickly and therefore gone stodgy makes him want to throw the spoon he is now holding at Leo's head.

Heck, he wants to throw a spoon at Leo's head when the porridge _isn't _stodgy and cold.

Sighing for probably the hundredth time that morning, Castiel takes up his usual seat at the far table which the others leave for him to sit at. He doesn't mind this though. It gives him the peace and quiet he's happiest with. Well, the most peace and quiet you can get in a room crowded to the brim with loud children all ostentatiously flashing their stupid wings everywhere

Yes. Castiel _is _jealous.

And he _so _isn't ready to just spread out his petty wings next to their huge ones.

A piece of toast lands on the table in front of him as he lifts another spoonful of disgusting porridge to his lips. It skids across the table and flies onto the floor on the other side. Castiel's knuckles go white under his skin as his fist clenches around the spoon tightly. His jaw locks and his teeth grind together. This is _so _not what he needs this morning. The flying lesson and the awful porridge is enough, but toast being thrown at him?

"Hey Castiel? Ready to flap your pretty _little _wings today?" comes a snide voice from a few tables away. Castiel turns his head slightly to see Leo – of course it's Leo – waving arrogantly and spreading his own wings out widely. Castiel looks back at his porridge.

_Don't play into his hands, Castiel _he thinks to himself. _It's just what he wants._

"Think you'll be able to even get off of the ground?" Silence. "I don't," follows so softly that Castiel barely hears it. But he hears it none the less. His chair flies backwards as he stands, fists balled at his sides.

"Morning!" The door has opened just as Castiel has stood, and Gabriel has strolled in. He stops short, and notices the quiet in the room. All eyes are either on Gabriel, Leo or Castiel. Gabriel's are fixed on Castiel.

"Any reason you're up and about when your porridge is still half-eaten?" he asks. Castiel could tell him he's being bullied. But of course he won't. He never has.

"Yes, I'm just…getting a new spoon. I dropped mine."

Leo smirks, and turns back to his friends. Gabriel raises an eyebrow, and then grabs a spoon and walks over, giving it to Castiel. With a quick pat on the shoulder, Gabriel spins on his heel and begins walking around, checking up on the others. Castiel tries not to look anyone in the eye as he sits back down again, but his gaze accidentally locks with Balthazar's, who is sitting only a few tables away.

Alone.

Just like him.

It is Balthazar's expression which makes Castiel pause. It's so full of…of _caring; _an emotion that Castiel very rarely has the pleasure to witness. He stares back, not really realising he's doing so, until Balthazar lowers his head back to his bowl – the sudden movement brings Castiel out of his stupor, and slither back into his seat. He hasn't spoken to Balthazar for months. Balthazar is the one person who has ever stood up for him, and he completely disregarded it. Castiel tears his eyes away and drops into his seat. He's not so hungry anymore.

* * *

><p>From his spot next to the huge dormitory window, Balthazar watches the children below line up on the lawn, one beside the other. Well, almost. There is one who is a few feet away from the others, at the far end of the line.<p>

Castiel.

Sighing, not only at Castiel, but on Castiel's behalf, he leans closer to the window, pressing his cheek against the cool surface. He has a bad, bad feeling about this.

* * *

><p>Castiel has seen Sophia many times before. She is the Wayward House flying instructor, and has always been, since Castiel can remember. Her jet black hair is striking – rich and shimmering in the sunlight. She is standing opposite them – hands held together neatly in front of her, sweeping almost-glowing green eyes across each of their faces. Having had watched her treatment of her students before, Castiel knows how strict Sophia can be. She controls her classes with a vigorous and ruthless streak. When her eyes reach his, he instantly looks to his feet.<p>

"Welcome to your first flying lesson," she begins, releasing her hands from their grasp and beginning to pace up and down the line. "Before we begin I would like to state that once this course is over, and indeed, during this course if you so happen to be one of the few who pick the art of flying up quickly, that flying on these grounds is strictly forbidden. We are teaching you how to fly for use during and after you complete your training in the future; not for reckless and completely unnecessary reasons whilst you live under this roof. Obviously you are allowed to fly during class but other than that if you are caught doing so you WILL be punished accordingly. Do I make myself clear?" The line of students murmurs its response. Sophia inhales deeply. "I said, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Sophia!" comes the louder response. Sophia smiles finally, and nods.

"Good. Now then. I need to make sure that all of your wings are fit for flying today. No one has any pains or aches which they need to make me aware of?" Everyone shakes their heads. "Perfect! Okay. Now let me see those wings of yours. Spread yourselves out further and then open them out for me."

Castiel bites his lip so hard that he gasps a little in pain. He can't. No. He thought he'd be able to do this but he can't. He can't open his wings here. Not now. Not ever. No. No no no.

"Castiel!" His head snaps up. Sophia is towering over him with her hands firmly on her hips. "You're up first! I've been calling your name for the past minute and a half and you haven't responded. Now get your wings out and let me look at you."

…Oh.

All eyes are on him. All the taunting, cruel, laughing eyes. He knows exactly what they're all thinking.

_I can't wait to see him embarrass himself with those puny wings of his. _

He gulps so audibly that the click of his throat is heard half-way down the line, and the sniggers resonate in his eardrums. Sophia lets out a groan of impatience, and pulls him out of the line to the front of the class. He is screaming inside. His eyes are round and as wide as they can go. This isn't fair. Why is she doing this? Doesn't he been through enough torment? Will it ever end?

"Castiel, open your wings please." The sickly sweet drawl of her voice makes him shiver. But he remains silent. She growls under her breath. She's clearly had enough of trying to be nice about it all.

"Castiel, I _demand_ you to open your damn wings!"

"No." A unanimous gasp from his cohorts ruptures the silence. Sophia stands up straight and her enraged eyes pierce him like knives.

"What…did you just say? Did you just disobey an order?"

He bites his lip again. He's in BIG trouble. She breathes deeply.

"Castiel, if you do not open your wings _now_, I will march you inside and there will be _severe _punishment coming your way, do you understand me?"

"FINE!" he yells, and his wings unfurl from behind him, opening out to their full extent. His head hangs in shame as the laughter from his siblings makes his stomach quench.

"Silence!" Sophia hisses at them, and they fall quiet once more. Though Castiel can hear their whispers.

"_Look! They're still just as small as they've always been! Oh that's hilarious!"_

He hates everything.

Sophia leans forward and inspects them with a frown.

"Well, you're not exactly going to get very far with those. But we'll make do." Castiel's hands curl into fists at his sides. Tears line his eyelashes. Don't cry. Not here. Not now. Not ever. Do. Not. Cry. "Go back to the line, Castiel. And don't you ever disobey me again. Next!"

As Castiel walks back to the line, the whispers hush and they all just...stare. He doesn't have to look at them to know that. The buzz of laughter hums down the line and his cheeks burn red at the sound.

What did he do to deserve this?

That is the question he has been asking himself ever since he can remember. Soon, all the wings have been checked and they're all in a line again, facing Sophia who is smiling proudly.  
>"I must say your wings are in wonderful condition, though some are...sub-standard, to say the least." Her glance flickers to Castiel, and his cheeks burn even more. "Anyway, to get on with this lesson, I'd like Leo to come forward to help demonstrate."<br>Smugly, Leo strides forwards, his wings open wide and fluttering in the gentle breeze. Sophia explains the strategy of flying to them all and Leo tries it out. His wings flap hard and fast, and he rises a few inches off of the ground before dropping gracefully back onto it.  
>"Your wing muscles need to be trained, and that comes with practice," Sophia clarifies, running her hand across the top of Leo's wing, and then pulling it gently open. She begins to explain how to use each part of the wing, and Castiel listens intently. If he can grasp how to fly first, even with his small wings, maybe he can impress them all for the first time in his life. "Once you grasp how to use your wings," Sophia continues, "you will be able to transport yourself from place to place in the blink of an eye. Once you grasp how to use your wings, you can be in any place, at any time. It's extremely useful during and after your training. I will show you." Sophia retreats further from the group, and stretches her neck by leaning it side to side. Then, with a smirk, her wings open out and the intake of breath from her students makes her smirk grow wider.<p>

Castiel is in awe.

Her wingspan is enormous. The tips brush the leaves on the trees either side of her, and the black feathers glint with blues and greens from the sun overhead. They're absolutely beautiful. A look of concentration crosses her face, and her wings swoop downwards. She disappears.

"See? Simple." They all jump as her voice comes from behind them. She is standing with her hands on her hips and her wings folded once more. "You just need to get the hang of using your wings. Now then, everyone find a space and open your wings out. Really try to get some lift!"

Being a lover of having lots of space, Castiel jogs off to his own spot and tries not to focus on the fact that people keep glancing at him, waiting for him to get his wings out again. Which of course he has to, and he does, slowly but surely. He ruffles them, stretching them out as far as they will physically go, and concentrates. He wants to get to the tree beside Sophia. What if he can do it on his first ever try? What if he's amazing at flying even with his tiny wings? What if he –

He lands flat on his face.

His wings give out practically the second his feet leave the ground. Spitting out the mouthful of grass he has accumulated, he glares at two of his siblings who are giggling at him nearby. He then glares at the others who have managed to hover above the grass. Why can't he just _do _it? Picking himself up again, he swoops his wings down as hard as he can and almost squeaks when he manages to stay off of the ground for a second.

"Good, Castiel!" Sophia claps and the praise makes his heart swell. He's doing something _right. _In his moment of glee he forgets he's flying and drops back to the ground again, but onto his feet this time. For the first time in what could be forever, he actually feels _proud _of his wings. After having constant and unshakeable fears that his wings would never work, to have them WORK is just…just…

Castiel grins. A big, wide, happy grin.

"You may have managed to stay up in the air for a second, Castiel, but it doesn't mean you're gonna get anywhere with those stunted things."

The smile disappears as quickly as it arrives. He spins round and sees Leo about five feet in the air, his wings pounding pockets of air upon his saddened brother. Castiel feels rage boiling up inside of him. For once he had been happy with himself. And Leo had just come and ripped that feeling away. His fists clench so tightly that the knuckle bones are white under his skin.

"If you…if you insult me…ONE more time…" he growls gutturally, glowering upwards and putting all of his anger into his expression. Leo just laughs aloud.

"I'd like to see what you'd do when I'm up here and you can barely get one foot from the floor."

It's one thing to have been kicked whilst he was down. His whole life has been that. But to be kicked when he finally experiences what happiness – pure happiness – feels like…to have that…to have it _taken_…It hurts. More than anything that's ever been thrown at him. He can't take it anymore. He can't be abused like this. He won't let himself be abused like this. Not anymore. He's never felt so angry. A searing heat shoots through his back and into his wings, spreading like wild fire to the very tips. It stings and pains him, but he doesn't care. Suddenly the heat spreads through his entire body, and envelops his face. His vision his going whiter and whiter until he can no longer see. Everything is on fire. Everything is throbbing. He can't control it. He doesn't know what's happening. He wants to scream but something is closing off his voice. He can't – he can't – he can't –

_**BOOM.**_

It happens so fast he hardly notices it. The sound that erupts from his back equates to that of a thunder clap. He lets out a cry as he is surrounded by thick black feathers to his right and to his left. What are they? Why is someone covering him with their wings? What just _happened?_ He turns his head and realises that there's no one behind him. And the black feathers are coming from _his _back.

…

…They're _his _wings.

And they're bigger than any of the angels his age. Much, much bigger.

The class has gone silent. They're all watching him. He doesn't care. He flaps his wings and lifts from the floor. It's as easy as blinking. He can't believe it. He rises up to Leo's level, who is staring with humongous wide eyes. He looks terrified. Castiel grins, his fists still curled.

"What was that about me not being able to stay up here for very long?" he snarls. "Because you must have been talking about yourself!" And with that he flies forwards and collides with the stunned Leo, digging his nails into the six year olds flesh and pushing him hard. Leo topples downwards, unable to keep his wings working, and crashes onto the ground. His wing lays at an awfully crooked angle. Shouts begin amongst his siblings and Sophia appears at Leo's side. Leo wimpers into her arms, moaning about his wing and how much it hurts. Her eyes lock onto Castiel's.

"You. BOY! Get down here this INSTANT!"

He hadn't meant to make Leo fall. He'd just been so mad. He never wanted to hurt him. Tears bubble up in his eyes. He doesn't know what to do. His chest aches. His lip quivers. What has he _done_? But he can't go down there. He's in so much trouble. His throat burns with the onslaught of tears and he clutches at it. He may know how to get up in the air but he doesn't know how to fly away like Sophia did. Just…disappear. If only he could disappear for good.

There's a flap of feathers beside him and he doesn't even look to see who it is. He presumes it's Gabriel – Sophia probably had one of the angel children run inside to get him – to take him to the ground and march him inside.

What he doesn't anticipate is blinking and seeing his dormitory before his eyes. His bed, his teddy, his things. The person hurries him to his bed and he crawls onto it willingly, pulling his teddy into his arms and burying his face into it. The person collects him into their own arms and Castiel's teddy isn't enough anymore. He turns his face and buries it into the chest of whoever so happened to have saved him from Sophia's wrath – at least for now. The chest is small and bony. It's not Gabriel. Castiel shivers as he cries. He knows who it is.

* * *

><p>Balthazar clutches him tighter, placing a kiss on the top of his head. They'd be found soon enough, but for now, Castiel just needed someone to hold him close. Even if he runs away again when this is all over…Balthazar doesn't care. Castiel needs this. And Balthazar will always be what Castiel needs - whether it's someone to stand up to the bullies, whether it's a shoulder to cry on; Balthazar will make sure that he's there to…well. Balthazar will always just make sure he's there.<p> 


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**

**Hello there! Sorry it's taken me such a while to update - I've been without a laptop for a long while, and also I have major exams coming up so I SHOULD be revising for those...but I'm writing...which is bad for me, but good for you, I guess xD And c'mon with the reviews, guys! I know there's more than six of you reading this! **

**When I don't get reviews baby Castiel cries. Do you want that on your shoulders? DO YOU? **

**No, you don't. So PLEASE review. It means a lot to me (and Cas).**

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><p>For angels, their wings develop as they grow. But it is not through physical growth, it is through their emotional growth; interacting with their siblings and exploring different ways in which to feel and act. If they utilise these emotions, and act upon them, their feathers stretch out and unfurl, slowly becoming larger. For Castiel, he always kept his feelings locked away inside of himself, in almost impossible place to penetrate deep, deep under the surface. He never acted upon them, he just…existed. Passing through life, watching it go by. Castiel had forever been a quiet individual, not allowing himself to open up to anyone, remaining very much to himself. And everyone knew that.<p>

That was most definitely the reason for his stunted wing growth.

It is now the speculation that because Castiel was finally building himself up to fight back for the first time in his life, the emotional state he was in was so completely intense that it consumed him wholly, and the power of the emotion behind it made his wings burst out and develop to the largest they could possibly be for his age.

* * *

><p>His newly grown wings are now folded up behind his back, the lights from the office ceiling reflecting on the plumage very similarly to Sophia's –picking up the new-fangled blues and greens and the odd specks of purple. He sits on an old mahogany chair opposite Gabriel's desk in silence, occasionally lifting his eyes to look over to his right at Balthazar, whose head is hanging similarly shamefully. Sophia is leaning against the bookcase, her arms folded and her face pitiless. Her dark, perfectly sculpted eyebrows are furrowed, and her eyes do not move from the two angels in the chairs. With a low creak, the door opens behind them, but they do not turn to see Gabriel walk in. When it closes heavily, Castiel winces.<p>

"Boys. Boys, boys, _boys_."

The sigh and the tone of utter disappointment causes both to feel crestfallen. Neither meets his stare, nor makes any noise whatsoever. Sophia clucks her tongue and steps away from the book case. Her heels click arrogantly across the wooden floor.  
>"Not caring to explain yourselves? Fine. Castiel, let's begin with you." The mention of his name sends shivers down his spine. Her voice is malicious, and it cuts into him like a knife. "I must start by saying that I am impressed by your wings – congratulations on their belated arrival." Castiel would feel happy with this compliment if her tone hadn't been so spiteful. And the sarcasm behind the latter of her sentence was clear as crystal. Castiel <em>hates <em>older angels. They're all mean, and filled with so much bitterness. All except Gabriel, who seems to be able to actually understand that children _have_ got feelings. Sophia clears her throat further.  
>"Castiel, aside from your growth spurt, and your shocking - and I stress <em>'shocking'<em> - ability to fly so soon, the fact still remains that you physically attacked your brother Leo." Sophia stalks forward and kneels in front of Castiel. Her voice pours out of her mouth like a sickly sweet ooze which makes Castiel feel ill when he hears it. "Do you understand what you've done, boy? We do not, and I repeat do _not_ tolerate violence in this House."  
>"Sophia, calm down," Gabriel interjects softly as her voice quivers with rage.<br>"Gabriel, this happened under my watch. Not yours. This is my punishment to deal out."  
>He goes to talk back, but knowing she is right, he bites his lip, and Castiel is sure he sees a flash of apology cross his eyes for a second. A flash of apology aimed at Castiel.<br>"Castiel, you are hereby stripped of all privileges. You will sleep in the isolation dormitory, and you will have your meals brought there. You will be allowed out for flying classes and such, but when they are finished you return straight to your dormitory. This stands for one week. If you even try to argue, this time will be extended."  
>Castiel thinks. A week...<em>alone<em>? Isn't that just his life anyway? And...doesn't that mean he won't be faced with the bullying as much...?  
>He has to chew back his smile. Sophia glares at him, staring hard at his quirking lips.<br>"But that's not fair! He was provoked!"  
>Sophia snaps around and looms over Balthazar, who - though older - still looks tiny on the huge chair. But he juts out his chin courageously, his eyes like steel. They act like a shield over his true emotions, since Castiel watches his hand shaking on the arm of the chair.<br>"Ah, Balthazar. Now we come to you."  
>"No! Wait." Gabriel is standing now, and he crosses the room to kneel beside him. "What did you mean Castiel was provoked?"<br>The angel boy looks over at Castiel, his eyes begging for permission to tell. But Castiel doesn't respond; he just stares. Balthazar gulps thickly, and he feels his mouth getting drier. He looks back at Gabriel.  
>"Gabriel...all the other angels, they've always bullied Castiel. Awfully so."<br>Does Castiel want Gabriel knowing this? He's always kept it to himself, and not wanted to bother Gabriel with his issues. But having Balthazar stand up for him again...this time it's different. This isn't against Zazriel. This is against Sophia and Gabriel, whose very presences are consuming and powerful, and they could seriously bring down some punishment if they want to. Balthazar...maybe...maybe he really _did_ care. A strange pang clutches in Castiel's chest. He's never felt it before. It's warm, and filled with hope. It's better than the happiness he felt when he managed to fly. Better than anything. Balthazar is his friend. His _friend_. His first, most special, perfect, _only_ friend. He always has been. Castiel just never let himself see it.  
>"Castiel, is this true?" Gabriel's gentle voice stirs him from his thoughts, and he sees the archangel sitting on his knees in front of him. "Have you always had a tough time here?"<br>Castiel blinks furiously, trying to keep the tears back. But they catch onto his lashes and is unable to stop them falling. He nods. Gabriel sighs deeply, and places a caring hand on Castiel's quaking shoulder.  
>"Why did you not tell me?" Castiel just shrugs. "Was Leo saying horrible things in the class today?"<br>"Terrible things," he whispers in reply. He proceeds to tell Gabriel and Sophia what had happened. Whilst Gabriel listens intently, Sophia rolls her eyes.  
>"I think we need to have a conversation with the children," Gabriel says decidedly, standing.<br>"Whatever. We deal with Balthazar first," Sophia cuts in. "He flew when it is strictly-"  
>"Sophia," Gabriel begins in a sudden dark tone, descending upon her. "You are in <em>my<em> House now. These are _my_ children. I accepted that Castiel needed to be punished by you until I heard his side of the story. Now it is under contemplation. But you _dare_ condescend my decisions when I am _far_ above your level, _angel_, then _you_ will face the consequence."  
>Castiel and Balthazar have to force themselves not to laugh at her. Sophia has withdrawn against the book case, with her eyes bulging and her chest rising and falling quickly. Then, she regains her composure and drags her hair out of her face. She is clearly completely shot down, but tries hard to look like it isn't bothering her.<br>"You may be an archangel, but you can't threaten me. You can't go against me without facing consequences yourself, Gabriel." She spits his name with ferocity, leaning right up into his face. He doesn't flinch.  
>"<em>Get out of my office<em>." Castiel has never heard Gabriel sound so enraged. It's frightening. He points towards the door. Sophia growls under her breath, but storms past them all and throws open the door with a flick of her hand.  
>"Your brothers will hear about this, Gabriel. Your ability to discipline is appalling, and it's getting worse. This may not be dealt with by me, but mark my words when I say that if you don't do your job right, I'm sure one of the other angels will be assigned to your position."<br>The wall shakes as the door slams. Gabriel grumbles under his breath as he turns to his desk and leans on it for support.  
>He cranes his neck to look at the ceiling. "Father, give me strength." Then, he faces them once more and sits on his desk. "I'm so sorry you boys had to witness that. There are times when even the best of angels have issues with things."<br>"I wouldn't call her one of the _best_ angels," Balthazar grumbles.  
>"Balthazar, don't talk about your peers like that." Gabriel hisses. "But this matter will be dealt with."<br>"Will you really be leaving us? If Sophia gets her way?" Castiel's lower lip shakes. Gabriel chuckles slightly.  
>"I assure you Castiel - it will take a lot more than this to get me out of this place."<p>

* * *

><p>Later that day, an assembly is called in the auditorium. The young residents of Wayward House file into their seats, all wondering what this is all about. Rumours travel that it is about the food fight they had in the mess hall two nights ago. But they had cleaned up before Gabriel had come back from his meeting with the angels...Still. Gabriel always seems to find out everything in the end. Others pass along the notion that it's something to do with what happened to Leo during the flying lesson. Leo himself sits in his seat, his wing fixed by a mere hand gesture from Sophia barely seconds after he had fallen. But that hadn't meant it hadn't hurt when it had broken. So Castiel isn't going to get away with it. Oh, Leo will make sure of that. The congregation of angel children cascades into silence when Gabriel walks onto the stage and to the podium. Hundreds of pairs of curious eyes follow his movements. He stares back at them with a hard glare.<p>

"Brothers and sisters. You're probably wondering why I called you all here today."  
>Small voices babble across the crowd. Gabriel hushes them.<br>"It has come to my attention that there are brothers of ours who are not being treated kindly. Not at all. Let me ask you this." Gabriel begins to pace the stage, hands clasped behind his back. "If you had something which made you feel vulnerable, or self-conscious, how would _you _feel if it was constantly used against you? How sad would you be? When I discovered that some of you have been cruel enough to do this to your own flesh and blood, I can't express the level of disappointment I felt. And will still feel if this does not stop.

I raise you hoping that you'll understand that you should love each other. Not that you'll fight and attack with cruel remarks. One day you will leave this place to train to fight for your faith, and to be the strongest you can be is to know that you have people behind you who care and are there for you. Imagine going through life here with no one but yourself. I must demand that if you ever have an issue with anything or any_one_, you come and talk to me. I promise not to judge or mock, or to talk you down. I will listen and we will deal with the situation accordingly. You have a brother in me too, remember. And that's something you should never forget. Not only for me, but the children around you. They are your sisters and brothers, and you should strive to protect them and love them unconditionally, not hate them and drive them into the dirt."  
>The silence that follows is almost deafening as Gabriel's emotional words sink into their skin. Never before has he given such a speech. None have ever been spoken to in such a way. Castiel watches the archangel from the fourth row up in the middle with huge, glassy, thankful eyes. Gabriel's own eyes meet his for a brief second and he nods.<br>"I experienced something rather amazing today. An angel stood up for their friend against their own peers. Tell me. How many of you would truthfully do that for someone? Honestly? It takes a great deal of courage to stand up for someone like they did. I think many of you need to truly consider who your real friends are. Please bear in mind that if I ever hear another report of bullying in this House, I will not tolerate it whatsoever. This is not a place for cruelty. Love each other, for goodness sake! I really cannot stress it enough."

Gabriel announces that they may return to their activities, but to keep his message clear in their minds. The children swarm out through the sets of double doors, and soon the auditorium is empty. Well. Mostly. Gabriel feels a tug at his jacket and glances down to see Castiel's shining eyes blinking up at him.

"Thank you," the tiny boy chokes out, before throwing his arms around Gabriel's torso and squeezing hard. Gabriel smiles, and kneels down.

"Not a problem," he replies, and he tucks a finger under Castiel's chin. "Keep your head up high. Anymore issues, you come straight to me."

"Do I still have to sleep in the isolation dormitory?" The voice is so small and sad that Gabriel sighs, his smile dipping downwards for a moment.

"Not this time. Just try to stay out of trouble, okay?"

Castiel nods quickly, making Gabriel laugh and ruffle his hair.

"Good boy. Now run along. And remember what I said."  
>Castiel nods again, then shuffles off to the doors. Gabriel catches a glimpse of Balthazar hovering outside them, clearly waiting for his friend. Gabriel's smile widens.<p>

That night, Gabriel sits alone in his office. The flickering of the lamp on his desk slithers over his drawn face, and after a long while of gazing into it absentmindedly, he spins his chair to stare out of the large window behind him. His eyes fix on the beacon of light way off in the distance which pinpoints the entrance to Wayward House's grounds. With a twist of his wrist, the light grows in size until almost all of the garden is illuminated. But only for him. If anyone else were to glance out of a window at the light, they would still see the small beacon in the distance. Slowly, Gabriel's mind wanders back to the day's events. Castiel and Balthazar appear in his thoughts, their round faces blinking at him sadly. His thoughts linger on Balthazar for a moment. Suddenly, he warps back to the night when Balthazar was caught in the nursery, cooing over the new-born Castiel. The night when Balthazar had mentioned how Gabriel seemed so undeniably and wonderfully capable of love. Gabriel hasn't thought about this in a long, long time. But...surely today's events just highlighted it further? Sophia had been completely against giving the boys any sort of lease, even when she'd heard their sides of the story. Whereas Gabriel had pitied them wholeheartedly. He hadn't understood why Sophia was so cruel.

Why is he so different? Is there a purpose?

Yes, he has to look after the children so of course being able to understand their feelings by having his own is important, but he wasn't given the ability to care just for them. Before Lucifer rebelled, before Wayward House was even an idea...Gabriel had been able to care. He always had been. And he had been the only one. As far as he knew, anyway. What is the reason? he asks himself.

He sees himself in Balthazar. Although all the children have the same emotional stretch as a human child, Balthazar has a deeply rooted sense of what is right and wrong. And he loves Castiel with all his might. The amount of willingness to protect his brother is so powerful it can almost be seen as a glow around him. Gabriel can see it in his eyes and the way he stood up for Castiel against Sophia. Strange, Gabriel thinks. He hasn't seen the two boys interacting before now. He wonders what binds them so closely, yet at such a distance.

The beacon of light dims back to its original state, and Gabriel stands to pull the drapes to a close. The children are fast asleep in their dormitories. He stretches before leaving his office to do a check on them. Aside from the footsteps of the questioning archangel, all is silent in Wayward House.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews makes baby Castiel smile. A big, wide, toothy grin. <strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Bonjourno! Welcome to the next chapter of Wayward House! Judging by the stats for this story, there have been nearly 1,500 hits on this story which is CRAZY! **

**I'd like to thank happyfunballxd on Tumblr for doing some amazing artwork for my story without me even asking her to do it, and you can see that here: http : / / i39 . tinypic . com / dfcbqs . jpg (you'll have to remove the spaces to see it!). I honestly can't thank her enough for that! **

**Anyway, I'll let you read the story now. I love getting reviews to let me know what you think so please, don't forget to drop one in before you go :) Even if you don't have a ff . net account, you can still review! :D**

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><p>Time is a wondrous thing. Sometimes, when one is preoccupied, it slips by unnoticed, passing us like it doesn't even exist. We don't realise that the hand on the clock is ticking around and around; never stopping. It drags, and the clock ticks mockingly at them, as though it knows it is taunting them and is enjoying doing so. It's difficult to understand why time moves so slowly for someone when it sometimes moves so quickly for someone else.<p>

For Castiel, he had always found time to be incredibly conceited. It was as though the hands of the clock were resisting their purpose just so his awfully rotten life would be slow, tedious and lengthy. The only place time seemed to warm to him was when he was tucked in his Corner. 'Castiel's Corner' - he'd named it himself, and scribbled a placard one night, sticking it on the wall. When he sat reading his books or painting pictures, time was good to him.

Castiel hasn't thought about his Corner in a long time.

Four summers have come and gone since the "wings incident", and Castiel has discovered escape in Balthazar. What he used to gain from hiding away in his Corner can now be found in his best friend – and he's had that escape for a long time. Though he doesn't think of it as escape anymore - he doesn't _need_ escape anymore. He finds _happiness_ in his brother.

The first time Balthazar heard Castiel laugh was two months after they'd officially become "friends" – the day that Castiel grew his wings. They had been in the library at one of the tables, supposed to be doing homework for their Earthly Language class, but Balthazar had ripped a page from his notes and begun doodling. He found himself ruining his already awful doodle of an angel, and it went very blobby and big-nosed. Rather than throw it away, he decided to continue it and then write 'Sophia' beside it, whilst trying hard to control his giggles. Castiel raised his eyes from his work and cocked his head to the side curiously, mouthing "what is it?". Balthazar folded the doodle and pushed it over to Castiel, who picked it up and looked inside. Balthazar watched as his eyes squinted, before seeing the huge smile appear on his face and hearing the laughter come pouring from his mouth. It was shocking; Balthazar had never seen his friend look so carefree and happy. After all these years he'd never thought it even possible for Castiel's face to light up in such a way. Harahel – the angel who volunteered to be the House's librarian each day – appeared from behind a book shelf with an angry glare and a "SHHH!" at the two sniggering children. When they finally quietened down, Balthazar and Castiel exchanged a glance and a smile. It was from that moment on that Balthazar vowed he try to get Castiel to laugh at least once a day.

He almost always succeeded.

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><p>Time changes many things. Over time, the seasons change. The leaves of summer harden and crack, and drift from the trees in the increasing winds. They create a tumult of colour across the grounds, igniting it with their rich golds and reds – a wildfire across the trees and grass. Then, time turns autumn into the harshness of winter. The bitter cold bites at small hands and puffed cheeks. Dripping socks hang above the fireplace in the common room and hot cocoa is suddenly a staple part of everyday life.<p>

Time changes relationships. It took Castiel a great deal of time to really allow himself to open up to Balthazar, no matter how much they deemed themselves "friends".

The most poignant event that requires telling so far is when Castiel barely needed to think for a second about where he needed to go when he awoke one night, a year and a half on from the giggling in the library, from a bad dream. The nightmare had been bothering him for a few weeks, and every time he woke up he shuffled off, sniffling, to his Corner. But on this one night, Castiel awoke shaking and crying, and scrambled out of bed. When he reached the hallway, he looked straight on to the stairs which would take him to his Corner. Then, he looked left to see the doors to the other dormitories. It hardly crossed his mind to go to his Corner. Wiping his snotty nose on his sleeve, he padded down to the nearest door on the right, and opened it. The sound of sleeping met his ears, as the twenty five or so beds played residency to his brothers and sisters. He made his way through the centre, stumbling in the darkness, until he reached what he was looking for. His fingers grasped the pyjama sleeve of the sleeper and he shook until he heard a gasp and heavy breathing.

"Who is it?" came a hiss.

"Me," snivelled Castiel.

"Cassie?" Balthazar asked, astounded, and there was a moment of silence.

…Castiel had never had a nickname before. It was…endearing. Castiel couldn't help but feel fuzzy inside. Balthazar was clearly embarrassed, so Castiel decided to make him feel less so.

"Balthie, I had a bad dream." Another moment of silence passed.

"...C'mere." Upon hearing the bed sheets being thrown back, Castiel climbed in beside his brother and snuggled close, drinking in the warmth that Balthazar exerted. Balthazar covered them both with the sheets and pulled Castiel closer. Tucking his head under Balthazar's chin, the little angel boy yawned deeply, which hitched with his damp crying. He was still thinking about his nightmare.

"Shh, shh, shh," Balthazar cooed and began stroking Castiel's hair with slow, deliberate motions.

"I don't want to get scared again," Castiel whispered back.

Balthazar hushed at him again. "You're safe now. There's no need to be afraid."

They talked for a short while about simple things; Balthazar was desperate to take Castiel's mind off of his bad dream. When Castiel stopped responding to him, he smiled, and gave him a small squeeze. He fell asleep not long after. The two brothers slept peacefully in each other's embrace till morning.

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><p>Time also changes people. It is not time alone that changes them, but it is time that gives them the opportunity to change. The opportunity for them to change themselves and be changed by others.<p>

With Balthazar's constant mission to make Castiel laugh over the four years of their friendship, he became increasingly sarcastic and audacious. His snarky remarks get him into constant trouble with almost every single one of his peers, and Castiel just rolls his eyes and laughs because he wouldn't change his best friend for anything.

Castiel is still the quieter of the two, though he's far more adventurous and open now. The bullying seemed to cease after Gabriel's speech all those years ago. There was the occasional comment and rumour, but Balthazar forced him not to listen to them. Now their siblings just leave Castiel and Balthazar to their own devices, knowing that they're inseparable.

Gabriel has watched his brothers over the years. They haven't known it, but he's noticed how dependent they are on each other, and how willing to defend each other they are. He sees how Balthazar has helped Castiel, and he's so proud of them both. He knows he's not supposed to have favourites. He _knows._

But he just can't help it.

* * *

><p>One thing time hasn't changed is Wayward House itself – it still looks the same four years after Balthazar and Castiel became friends. The brown-bricked building with its white-framed windows still stands strong and magnificent. Ivy, however, has begun encroaching around the huge entrance, curling its tendrils around the columns which are holding the porch in place. That's the only real difference; barely noticed by the residents since the change was so gradual.<p>

A fierce, unforgiving downpour pounds against the House's windows, and a squealing group of young angels are splashing through the deepening mud towards the front doors, their sports clothes splattered and soaked through to their skin. The warmth that greets them when they manage to get inside is relieving, and they are ordered to leave their clothes out to dry and to go and change into something fresh.

"You look hideous," Balthazar muses as Castiel squelches over to the fireplace in the House's common room. Hair sodden and limbs dripping, the younger flashes him a scowl. Holding his hands up in defence, Balthazar chuckles and swings his legs over the side of the couch.

"Stupid sports class in the rain," Castiel grumbles angrily as he wrenches off his muddy shirt and socks. He flops them onto the fire barrier to dry and steps back, holding his hands out to the fire's throbbing heat. He sighs contentedly. His wings open out and he shakes them, causing flecks of rain water to fly over Balthazar, who screeches and dives under the nearest blanket. Laughing, Castiel pulls the blanket off of him and wraps it around himself. The look on Balthazar's face makes him crack up further.

"You've gotten your disgusting wing residue all over my text book."

"Balthazar, don't even _try_ to pretend you were studying."

"….I resent that. I study _vigorously_."

Castiel snorts. "Yeah. I'll believe that when I see it." He jumps onto the couch beside him and pokes him hard in the arm. "You should go make me some cococa."

"I am _not_ your slave."

"I won't help you with your revision for your test tomorrow."

"Would you like whipped cream on top?"

Grinning, knowing he'd won, Castiel nods. "That would be great."

Balthazar sighs as he clambers off of the couch and stomps into the kitchen. Castiel's a smart one for his age, so smart that he makes Balthazar look dumb for _his _age. Castiel likes to use this against him far too often, but when it comes to Castiel, Balthazar is a major push-over. The little kid just has one of those faces, he guesses. Big puppy dog eyes which he'll never get over, which can make him do practically anything.

Upon entering the kitchen, he sees a group of his siblings crowded around the large oak table. All of them are his age – thirteen – and they're playing some sort of obscure card game which involves spoons.

"Hey Balthazar, wanna play?" asks Bariel, a ochre-haired boy with tanned skin and freckles. He's one of the nice ones - the ones who don't mind Castiel when he hangs around with them. Then there are the others who completely ignore Castiel and seemingly disregard his existence altogether. Balthazar doesn't like them. But they insist on trying to be his friend. Unfortunately, Balthazar's attitude towards life in general seems to have gained him some sort of status amongst his brothers and sisters. His overt confidence which he can't hide no matter how much he tries means that they look up to him in a way. Sometimes it empowers him (what? He can't help it if they find him fabulous), but most of the time he hates them trying to impress him. He's heard rumours and whispers in the past that Castiel doesn't deserve to be called Balthazar's "best" friend, or even "friend" at all.

No. He doesn't stand for it when he hears things like that.

"No, thanks," he replies with a small smile as he fills the kettle with water and turns it on.  
>"C'mon! We need an extra team player!" Nanael keens, pounding her fists on the table excitably.<p>

_"I'll play."_

Balthazar spins around to see Castiel – who is now wearing a thick blue sweater and grey sweatpants - hovering in the doorway, hands balled into fists at his sides. Balthazar bites his lip. What is he doing? The table of angels exchange uncertain glances, until Raguel speaks up. Balthazar hadn't seen Raguel sitting there. Hatred boils up from the pit of his stomach. _Raguel_. Oh, he _despises_ Raguel. If anyone is unkind to Castiel, it's almost always that spiteful, sadistic –

"Actually, I think we can manage."

"Oh _CAN_ you?" Balthazar explodes at them. The group jump at the sudden boom of his voice. "And why can you _'manage'_ when Castiel offers to play, hmm? What _exactly_ is your problem? No, don't even answer that. Get out."

Raguel sneers. "You don't own this place, Balthazar. You can't kick us out of our own kitchen."

"You sure about that?" Balthazar has never snapped with Raguel before. He hasn't wanted to to give him the pleasure. But now, this thing, not letting Castiel play a simple card game...the _mundanity_ of it is what affects him most. Oh, he's been so close to actually ripping Raguel's throat out many, many times in the past. Now he feels he could leap across the room and do it right this second.  
>Raguel rises from his chair.<p>

"Balthazar, get _over_ yourself. Your high-and-mighty attitude may fool everyone else, but underneath it you're a weak, pathetic excuse for an angel and I'm sick of it. I can't wait to see you flunk training. And then flunk it again and again because you're nothing more than a scrawny, co-dependent, cocky idiot. When you have to leave here and leave little Castiel behind, you're gonna be so alone and damn man, that's gonna sting."

...That _hurts_. Balthazar stands frozen, staring at Raguel who stares back at him smugly. Silence fills the room. He hadn't been ready for that. Clearly, Raguel has been waiting to say that to him for a very long time. Taking a very deep breath, Balthazar steps forwards to retaliate as best he can, but he's so consumed with hurt and anger that he almost doesn't see Castiel dart between them.

"Don't fight him. He's not worth it. Come on, Balthazar."

"That's right, _Balthie_. Do what ickle _Cassie_ tells you to do." A couple of sniggers chime in with Raguel's. Raguel turns to the small crowd behind him and jerks his thumb towards Balthazar. "See? He's such a push over." Castiel frowns further. He hasn't called Balthazar by that nickname for about a year now. Balthazar, however, refers to Castiel as 'Cassie' still because it's just become habit.

"Shut _UP_!" Balthazar screams, and he flings himself at Raguel, his hands curled like claws and his wings outspread. Pots and pans which line the shelves and walls are hit by the tips and they come crashing to the floor in an almighty clatter. Raguel covers his face with his arms as Balthazar descends upon him, but Balthazar is yanked back suddenly. Castiel is pulling the back of his shirt with all his might, and he starts to drag him from the kitchen.

"Leave it, Balthazar!"

But Balthazar springs up again and his fist collides with Raguel's face. He's so quick that Raguel doesn't even see it coming. The injured angel clutches at his already purpling nose.

"You _HIT_ me!" he roars, almost in disbelief. Balthazar grabs Castiel's hand and they scarper, knowing Raguel is right behind them – and if not yet, soon.

"Where do we go?" Balthazar pants desperately. Mind racing, Castiel knows he knows a place. But no one else has ever –

It doesn't matter.

"This way!"

They throw themselves up the staircases, and eventually end up on the third floor.

"_Great_!" Balthazar groans in earnest as they reach the book case. "We're trapped! What kind of an idea was - "

"Shut up and get behind here!" Castiel yanks him behind the book case and moves aside the panel. Balthazar watches in awe. "In there!"

"Is it even big enough for us?"

"Yes! Hurry!"

Somehow, Balthazar manages to squeeze himself down far enough to drop back into the hole. Castiel follows swiftly behind. Hearts pounding and breathing heavy, they slam the panel into place and lean back against the stone wall. Balthazar is the first to speak.

"Where _are_ we?"

"Um…" Castiel's heart is racing not only for fear of Raguel catching them, but because not only hasn't he been to this place in two years now, but this is _his _place. _His _hide away.

Was he prepared to let even _Balthazar _know of its existence?

Four years ago, Castiel had no one. He was all alone. But then, one angel stood up for him far beyond the call of duty, and actually showed him that hey, someone _did _care. Someone who had stood up for him before; an act which Castiel had cast aside. He made himself believe that Balthazar hadn't done it for him, but for some unknown, selfish reason.

But when he'd stood up for him against Sophia and Gabriel, that's when Castiel knew.

These past few years, Castiel has had a best friend. Someone who makes it their goal their goal to make him laugh. A pair of arms that are always open if a hug is needed. Someone to talk to about the bad things and the good things, and the things that sometimes aren't even worth talking about. Castiel looks back on the past four years and thinks about how lucky he is. What kind of angel would he be now if he'd been alone for another four years?

He shivers at the thought.

"…I want to show you something," he whispers into the darkness. "Follow me."

His hand finds Balthazar's in the dark and – though apprehensive at first – Balthazar shuffles along behind him.

"How do you even know where you're going?"

Castiel smiles. "You'll see." He lets go of Balthazar's hand as they draw closer to the hole in the wall that they will have to climb into.

"Stop trying to be all mysterious and tell me whe – _OW_!" There is a simultaneous _bonk_ as Balthazar walks into the wall. He stumbles back and grunts indignantly. "Where _are_ you?"

"In here. Bend down."

"You could have _told_ me that you were disappearing into some gap before I collided with a slab of concrete."

"I could have, yes," Castiel agrees. "But I didn't." He can't help but grin even when he receives a whack to the head as Balthazar scrambles into the gap. He rolls his eyes when his friend starts complaining about the worry of getting stuck. "You'll be fine! Just keep moving forwards."

"Oh that's right, because it was my plan just to stay put in this claustrophobia-inducing hole forever."

They make it to the point where they can stand and Balthazar breathes a deep sigh of relief.

"Where's that light coming from?" he asks wonderingly. "…Wait, is that a room in there?" Following Castiel inside, he stares around himself in awe.

The room – if you could even call it a "room" is tiny. Three of the walls are plastered with hundreds of crayon drawings on pieces of torn paper. A map of the Earth from the Earth Geography classroom (so _that's_ where it went!) hangs across the fourth wall, and it's covered in drawings too, and red dots on different locations. There are blankets folded one corner, and another strewn across the floor as a rug. Piles of books inhabit another corner, and a pot of pencils and crayons sits on top of them. He jumps when the room ignites in a golden glow, and looks to see Castiel blowing out the match which he has lit an oil lamp with.

"Cassie I….what….what _is _this place?"

In a fluid movement, Castiel is over the other side of the room, and he peels back a drawing which is partly covering a hand-made sign which reads 'Castiel's Corner' in sprawled, awkward handwriting. Balthazar's jaw drops slightly.

"I always wondered where you'd disappear to. I presumed you'd found your own little hideaway, but this…this is…just _wow." _

He notices Castiel blush a little and begin tidying things away.

"I haven't been up here for…oh gosh, how long now? Two years?"

"Why not?" Balthazar picks up a book and flicks through the pages, discovering a makeshift bookmark slotted between two pages near the end. "You never finished your book."

Castiel shrugs. "I found another way to escape."

Balthazar raises an eyebrow. "How so?"

"You. By being my friend. I didn't have to go and hide away in here. I could just go to you and hide there."

Balthazar feels a huge smile stretch across his face. He doesn't say anything, but peers at the drawings which line the walls. They're all of different places on Earth, or of trees and birds and…there's a drawing of two angels. One small, one tall. 'Best friends' is scribbled underneath them. He feels his smile grow.

"My hair isn't orange," he chuckles.

"Well, I ran out of yellow," Castiel replies, giggling and sighing. "Sorry."

"No no, it's fine." Balthazar grins at him, then his mind flickers back to the reason why they're in the room in the first place. "…I shouldn't have hit Raguel."

Castiel sighs again. "No, you shouldn't have. You know Gabriel's going to hear about this, don't you? It was SUCH a stupid thing to do."

"…I know….but I'm not going to deny that it felt damn good to smack him one."

"I bet it did," Castiel winks. They both begin laughing, and then Balthazar's attention is caught by the world map again.

"…What's with all the locations you've pinpointed?" he asks as he traces them with his finger. One is over Nepal. One is over Australia. Another in India. Another in Hawaii. And so on and so on. Castiel remains quiet for so long that Balthazar wonders if he didn't hear him ask the question. "Cassie?"

"It's….they're…um…places I want to go…one day."

"But you can't? You can't just randomly visit places on Earth when you're an angel?" Castiel goes silent again. "What is it? What's all this about?"

"Okay! Balthazar, it's for if I ever escape Heaven! I just want to get out of here! I don't want to go into a garrison. I don't even care about Grace! I just want to get OUT." He breathes heavily as he lets it all out. Balthazar stares back at him, shocked. His face relaxes after a few moments.

"I want to escape too."

"…Really?"

"Yes. I hate this place. I don't want to be just another soldier in God's army, doing what everyone else wants. I want to be my own angel. I want _freedom." _As Balthazar speaks, his eyes light up. "Hey, one day, we'll break out. Together. See the Earth." Balthazar sweeps his arm out in a grand gesture towards the map. "We'll conquer the world, you and me."

"But it's impossible. Escape is a pipe dream. There is absolutely no _way _any angel can escape Heaven from here."

"Is it so bad just to _hope_ that maybe one day we'll find a way to make it a reality?"

Castiel looks contemplative. "….No I…I guess not… But if we do…can we…can we go to Italy? I've always wanted to go there."

Opening his arms up, Castiel scrambles into them. Balthazar hugs him tightly and smiles.

"Wherever you want, Cassie."


End file.
